


Mix it up, Sort it out

by bookwormally



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Healing, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Vanitas Lives (Kingdom Hearts)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28575642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormally/pseuds/bookwormally
Summary: Vanitas has been living in the Land of Departure with Aqua, Ven, and Terra for months now. But he doesn't really...do much they've noticed. He should definitely have a hobby or two now that his life is more than fighting. They'll just have to help him figure out what it should be!My piece for the Kingdom Heals Zine!
Relationships: Aqua & Terra & Vanitas & Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57
Collections: Kingdom Heals





	Mix it up, Sort it out

**Author's Note:**

> Gee, bookwormally, more Vanitas healing? Hey, this time I offered to do other characters and they said do Vanitas, so HERE WE ARE! This zine was a delight to be a part of, thank you so much for having me! Check out the collection and [the twitter](https://twitter.com/khealszine) for the other works!
> 
> This is an expanded version of my piece for the zine, since I uh hit the word limit and just kept on going lol  
> Enjoy!

It took the three of them two weeks to notice - two weeks after Vanitas started regularly attending meals with them and doing less lurking that is. So maybe two months since they came home. Terra is the one who brings it up.

“What does Vanitas do all day?”

Aqua and Ven had shrugged. “He trains,” Aqua says, “and I’ve seen him in the library. We sometimes talk about what we’ve read and where to find other things.”

“He goes for hikes up the mountain,” Ven adds. He bites his lip. “I know he trains and he _has_ to be sleeping after that whole _thing_ about locking his room.”

Terra puts his hands together and takes a deep breath. “So, he’s either training, reading, or walking. He doesn’t have much to do and doesn’t have a hobby?” He looks between the two of them. “He should really have a hobby.”

“Couldn’t his hobby be sparring? He likes that.” Ven’s tone is very dry for someone who’s not supposed to be sparring with Vanitas. (Terra and Aqua have both seen them, but neither Ven nor Vanitas has shown up with bruises, and no x-blade has appeared so they let it go. They don’t know what it’s like to sort out a bond like that.)

“As keyblade bearers, we should have other pursuits. Fighting is our duty, but it’s not…everything.” Aqua rubs at her fingers, at the small burn scars and marks from her metalworking. “I’m not sure if he’d like to learn, but we could offer options?”

Terra nods quickly. “All he’s known is fighting, so we should introduce him to other things.” He pulls a piece of paper from a nearby stack and writes _hobbies_ at the top. “What do we do?” He asks as if he really can’t recall – or he’s simply trying to leave it open for anything they might not know about each other.

Ven and Aqua lean in and the list grows quickly. Things they enjoy doing already, things they’ve always wanted to try, nothing is off the table with Vanitas as a reason to give it a shot. They mark their favorites and each promise to find him sometime in the next week and see what he thinks.

* * *

The Land of Departure is empty. Not like the Graveyard where the only company was the rusted graves of keyblade wielders long lost, the wind howling through stone canyons that were as dead as the keys. The Land of Departure is mostly empty of other people, but still full of life. There’s the castle, towers and chains all glowing with light, and the mountains, full of dense forests and hidden places. There are animals that look at the few humans with curious eyes, running off into the dark woods where they know it’s safe whenever anything startles them.

This place is full to bursting with life and it’s still unsettling. Vanitas traces the lines in the bark of a tree with a finger; carefully not looking at the birds he can hear singing in the branches above him. They’ll take flight if he looks up, and he likes listening to their calls. The birds he finds the least upsetting. Birds are everywhere, in most every world, and he’s heard their calls before. It’s the bigger animals that roam the woods that he finds unsettling.

Turning round a bend in a narrow trail to find a deer staring at him scared him half to unexistence. Nothing that big, that _alive_ ever roamed the Graveyard. Vanitas is the intruder in this place of life, an oddity that the animals have no understanding of. He’d hardly blame them if they attacked him for it. It would be more deserved than other attacks he’s dealt with. “Pathetic,” Vanitas mutters, too quietly to interrupt the birds. “What am I waiting for here?”

He’s here with people he helped set up for failure - Ventus who he was trying to retake, Aqua who he tried to kill. Terra seems the most comfortable with Vanitas being here, but has yet to give a real answer whenever Vanitas spits the question at him. ‘ _Why?_ ’ The Lights save people and now he’s here. That’s that.

If only he didn’t have the aching edge in his chest that calls for _more_.

Footsteps crunching over the leaf littered ground are a welcome distraction. They make the birds take flight, but Vanitas knows they’ll come back. He doesn’t have to look down to know who that weighty tread and a certain feeling in the air belong to. Terra doesn’t have Ventus’s new and annoying ability to be able to find Vanitas anywhere, so for the moment, Vanitas is the only one who knows they are now close enough to speak.

Terra is looking for him though, that much is clear. Vanitas watches his gaze sweep between the trees and find nothing. It doesn’t seem to bother Terra though - he doesn’t frown or mutter to himself. Vanitas wonders just how long he’s been looking.

_Take pity on him. He’s the least bothersome of the lot._ Vanitas has the least complicated feelings for Terra - even if there are moments where he jumps, not expecting Terra to have turned the corner, _expecting him to have gold eyes and a cold stare._ Vanitas sighs and calls down to him, “What is it?”

Terra looks up, smiling slightly as he spots Vanitas’s perch against the trunk of the tree. “Is that comfortable?”

“Yes. You’re obviously looking for me. What.”

“Ah, guess I’m caught.” Terra rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve got a bush stuck in the garden and I need help yanking it out. Can you give me a hand?”

That’s new. Vanitas arches an eyebrow, but slides off the branch. “Fine.” If Terra’s looking for him, his friends are gone and not an option.

“Thanks, Vanitas.” Terra’s smile widens and he turns back the way he came. “Have you been out to the garden?”

_Why does he want to know?_ Vanitas bites the inside of his cheek, but it’s not like he’s messed with the garden or torn it up to piss anyone off. “The flower garden or the one with the vegetables?”

“I’m working in the flower garden. Is the vegetable patch still growing?”

Vanitas shrugs one shoulder. “It’s a bit of a mess, but someone’s been weeding it.” Ventus has been, Vanitas has seen him down on his knees, buried practically to his wrists in dirt. He never smiles while he does it, but there’s always the distant feeling of satisfaction that tickles Vanitas’s skin when he watches Ventus leave the garden.

Terra hums. “I’ll have to check. We’ve been doing fine on food, so I hadn’t thought about it… It’d be nice to have fresh vegetables from the garden again.” Terra does most of the cooking, so it’s weird that he focused on the flowers first. Whatever, it’s not Vanitas’s business why Terra does what he does. He’s sure they appreciate him doing what he wants: leaving them alone.

The walk back is mostly quiet. Terra doesn’t try to fill the air with useless words and Vanitas can focus on their surroundings - an old and often life-saving habit. Terra takes the lead as they reach the castle grounds, his long strides pulling ahead until they reach the flower garden.

“There it is.” Terra waves at the bush. It looks like it’s made of nothing but dry, spiky branches - half of them splintered and broken. He grabs some of the branches, his hands protected by gardening gloves, and wiggles it. “I thought I dug up the roots, but it doesn’t want to come out.” He looks at Vanitas and then frowns. “Hold on a second.” He steps over to a basket stuffed with…stuff and digs through it.

After a moment of searching, he straightens and offers Vanitas another set of gardening gloves. “I try not to give the earth too much more of my blood outside of combat.”

Vanitas can’t keep the amusement from his tone as he replies, “Right.” He pulls on the gloves, a perfect fit - they must be Ventus’s. He ignores the sting of anger that digs under his nails at that and bends down to look at the bush.

Terra gives the bush a yank and it almost lifts before it snaps back to the earth. Bent down, Vanitas can see the issue. “There’s a root, not a very big one.” Vanitas reaches and grabs the clippers lying nearby.

“Even the small ones can be almost impossible to break,” Terra says with a headshake. “Can you get it?”

“Hold it up.” Vanitas maneuvers the clippers into place and waits for Terra to get the bush as far up as he can. Once there’s an opening, Vanitas snips through the root.

What neither of them thought about was what would happen to the tension once the resistance was removed. Terra, still pulling the bush up, yanks the bush into his face, stumbling backwards with a shout, “Whoa!”

Vanitas makes a grab from the roots, but they’re already out of reach. Terra catches his balance and holds the bush far from him. They stare at each other for a moment. “...Nice job not spearing your eyes out,” Vanitas says carefully.

Terra bursts into laughter and sets the bush on the ground. “I think that was luck more than anything!” He squats beside the bush, inspecting it. “No wonder this wasn’t sprouting. I think the whole thing is dead.”

“It looks dry.”

“I think some sort of disease got it while we were away. It looks like it’s got some sort of rot.” Terra twists the trunk of the bush, examining another side. “Root rot, maybe?”

“Plants still in the ground can rot?” Vanitas steps closer to look for himself. He bets Ventus doesn’t know that. His vegetable weeding is doomed unless Vanitas steps in. He can’t see anything wrong with the roots, but they’re covered in dirt. “How can you tell?”

Terra shrugs. “Well...I can’t say I know exactly. I’m taking an educated guess.” He brushes a gloved thumb over one of the roots. It knocks the dirt off and he taps below a weird discolored spot. “That’s not supposed to be there, so it’s probably some kind of disease and lots of things turn into rot.” He smiles awkwardly at Vanitas. “I’m not as much of an expert as it might seem.”

“Don’t worry,” Vanitas says staring at the bush instead of him, “I don’t expect you to be an expert in anything.”

Terra snorts and straightens up. “That’s good.”

Vanitas can’t imagine how that’s good when Aqua and Ven would tell him he’s being _awful_ for thinking that. Terra’s weird. He brushes some more dirt from another root until he finds another spot. “So, could you have saved it if you knew?”

“Probably not. Once something like that sets in, it’s really hard to save the plant. We can cut off branches before infection spreads, but if it gets into the roots…” Terra shakes his head. “It’s better that we plant a new one and make sure it grows into a healthier bush.”

Vanitas hums, tugs the gloves from his hands, and stands. “Is that it?”

Terra smiles at him. “Yeah. Thanks, Vanitas. Dinner’s at six if you want to join us.” He hefts up the bush, but waits for Vanitas. They’re all always waiting for him to catch up. At least Terra makes it tolerable.

Vanitas nods to him, not a yes, and takes his leave. He can hear Terra whistling to himself as he moves the rotten bush out of the garden.

* * *

Vanitas isn’t sure why, but his life post-keyblade war, post-Xehanort, post-returning to Ventus, has not severed his link to Ventus’s emotions. Other things have fallen from him – the Unversed no longer drip from his skin and the ache in his chest is less. But the link between himself and Ventus is still there, still pulsing at times with Ventus’s more intense emotions. Sometimes, it’s a good thing. If Ventus is overly excited and looking for him, Vanitas can creep off before Ventus drags him into something. If he’s frustrated and Ventus is energetic, then they can both vent their energy in a fight away from Aqua and Terra’s eyes.

Sometimes, it’s not as helpful as it should be. Sometimes, he only has a moment to feel Ventus’s feelings and then Ventus himself is on him. Today is one such day. Vanitas has a brief moment where he feels _intention_ from Ventus and then Ventus is sticking his head into Vanitas’s room. “Hey, come here.”

Vanitas scowls at him, curled against the pillows of his bed, and deliberately flips a page in the book he’s reading. “No.”

“Come on, _please?_ ” One denial and Ventus’s voice is already creeping into a whine. He is the most annoying person to have come from. Vanitas doesn’t look at him, but isn’t quite able to focus on the words on the page either. Ventus is still thrumming with intention, but Vanitas can’t quite grasp the point of it. “Vaniiiiiitas.”

“What do you _want_? I’m not going to come with you for no determined reason.” Vanitas doesn’t close the book – that’s a sign to Ventus that he’s starting to agree. Which he is not. Ventus’s whims are not his responsibility.

“Oh,” Ventus says, because he is, in fact, an idiot. “I need help in the kitchen and Terra’s out.”

And they’ve all come to an agreement that Aqua’s only allowed in the kitchen to bake. Vanitas sighs. “Is something on fire?”

Ventus shakes his head. “No, I’m not that far. I uh actually don’t really get the measurements?”

“Idiot,” Vanitas mutters and closes the book. “Fine. Since you can’t read.”

“I can _read_ …I just don’t cook much.”

“Ever.” Vanitas stands and pushes Ventus back out of his doorway. He pulls the door shut behind him and locks it. Ventus sticks his tongue out, but turns and leads the way back toward the kitchen. Vanitas follows, trying not to think about how their paces fall in line within moments. It’s easier not to think about what he wanted when it’s further away, when they feel more distinct. “So,” he says, to distract himself and because it’s relevant. “What are you trying to make?”

Ventus bites his lip. “I was trying to keep it simple, but apparently making soup involves _stock_ and a whole bunch of stuff? I thought I could just throw everything in the pot and let it cook for a bit!”

“What the hell is stock?” Vanitas has hovered around the kitchen, has tried his hand at making some of the recipes that are around in the middle of the night, but this is new and unfamiliar territory.

“It’s like…broth and some meat, I think? It should be in the pantry.” Ventus shrugs and the look he gives Vanitas can only be described as desperate.

Vanitas shrugs. “Better hope so or we’re making something else.”

“Maybe we should,” Ventus mutters.

They turn into the kitchen and Vanitas sighs immediately. There are vegetables strewn across the counter, a large pot sitting on the stove, and, worst of all, at least three different knives out. “Wow,” he says flatly.

“Shut up.” Ventus shoves at his shoulder and picks up the cookbook. “It doesn’t tell you which knife, okay?”

“It does,” Vanitas says, because he read the entire introduction to cooking basics at the front of the book. “You have to know how to read.”

“I know how to read!” Ventus glares at him and then down at the book. “When did you start knowing anything about cooking,” he mutters. There’s a tinge of something to his emotions, but it’s subtle and Vanitas isn’t interested in picking it apart.

Instead, he moves to the mess on the counter. He picks up the knives, sets them by the sink, and then pulls out the correct one for chopping potatoes. “Use _this one_. What does it say to start with?” Vanitas steps closer when Ventus offers him the book, and is quietly surprised when Ventus leans over it with him.

One of his fingers taps the top of the paragraphs of instructions. “You’re supposed to prepare your vegetables first, but then I saw the stock thing _and_ something about simmering? Do you do that in a pan instead of the pot?”

“No, you can simmer stuff in a pot. You keep it just below a boil.” Vanitas tugs the book closer and Ventus leans back. “There are instructions in the front.”

“Oh. I thought you could just use the recipe.” Ventus picks up the knife and studies each side of it. “I guess you _can_ if you know how to cook.”

Vanitas smirks a bit. “Yeah, idiot.”

That gets the knife pointed at him, but Ventus starts chopping the potatoes instead of swinging it at Vanitas. Since Ventus seems to understand making equal pieces, Vanitas turns to the mystery of beef stock. The pantry and cabinets hold no such thing despite Ventus’s thoughts. Vanitas frowns, looks at the recipe again, and then opens the fridge.

Sure enough, there’s a container labeled _beef stock_ in Terra’s neat handwriting sitting there. Vanitas pulls it out and shows it to Ventus. “Tada.”

“I’m never doing this without an actual cook again.” Ventus shakes his head. “Thanks, Vanitas.”

“Yeah, yeah, I used my eyes. How incredible.”

Ventus’s smile is without any points. “Well, yeah, but you know what all this means and actually thought to check the fridge for it. It makes me feel like I’m really bothering you now.” He laughs a bit, free and unencumbered.

Some emotion skitters under his skin and Vanitas puts his back to Ventus, setting the stock next to the stove. He has to say something before Ventus thinks he’s mad or upset or about to start throwing things. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling, but it curls around his heart and his throat. He coughs and starts to look for the measuring cup. “It’s fine,” he says, shortly. “We both know I have all the reading skill.”

“Oh, shut _up_ about that already!” Ventus’s next knife chop is harder and his speckles of frustration tickle at Vanitas’s ribs. Ventus mutters under his breath about _‘ancient alphabet’_ and ‘ _not being a huge nerd’_ – Vanitas just grins.

Somehow, they scrape together a soup that’s not a huge disaster. When they serve it up at dinner, Vanitas watches the three of them eat, and nods when Terra doesn’t spit it back out in disgust. Stirring his own bowl, he watches the vegetables float around with the current. _Not too bad._

He doesn’t notice Ventus grinning widely at his friends or the way that Aqua nods. He doesn’t have a link to her emotions to feel that same flicker of _intention_ that brought Ventus to his door.

* * *

He doesn’t hate Aqua. Really, he never hated her. He thought she was pathetic, chasing after her friends on her master’s sad orders, but he didn’t _hate_ her. Strongly disliked maybe, but everything was but embers compared to how much he hated his master. No emotion could compare to that ever-burning fire eating through his chest.

Vanitas was pretty certain that she hated him. It only made sense, when he was deliberately insulting and challenging her. He was _trying_ to provoke her, so hatred would only be proof that it worked. He hasn’t asked since he was brought here – it was easier to avoid each other and deal with their new arrangement privately. 

In the weeks since Aqua has kept to cool politeness, the two of them only talking when they were both in the library. At most, they’ve graduated to tolerating each other quietly. Sometimes Vanitas asks the air in the library where to find a book and Aqua answers as if the voice belongs to someone else. They don’t talk, but they’re polite. They _don’t_ spend time together purposefully.

This means that he has no idea why she leans out of her new workroom when he’s walking by, and calls out to him. “Vanitas! Could you lend me a hand for a second?” Her gaze flicks back to whatever she’s working on and then to him again. “It really will only take a second. Time is of the essence though, so if you could-.”

“Sure,” he says, mostly to make her stop from saying more in such an awkward tone. He steps into her workroom, hands carefully folded over his chest so he doesn’t touch anything accidentally. The room is really more of a converted closet, barely enough space for the two of them between a shelf of supplies (spools of wire, jars of powder, and uncut sheets of metal) and the table.

Aqua waves him closer and thrusts a pair of heavy leather gloves at him. “It’s hot,” she warns. “Can you hold the sides of this piece? It’s too delicate for the clamps and I really need to get it welded together before the fill sets incorrectly.”

He nods and presses the metal edges down, their ends touching to make a point. Aqua nudges them into a better position and then brings the torch over. It’s a very tight, controlled flame, but the heat is intense. Vanitas winces, but doesn’t let go. In a few seconds it’s over. Aqua motions for him to backup and then leans over the piece. 

She sighs in obvious relief. “Thank you. I thought I had it, but they kept slipping out of alignment.” She has something dark smeared on her cheek and rubs at it absently with a still gloved hand.

Vanitas hums, not that interested in her messing about with glass and metal. He tugs the gloves off and then pokes his cheek, checking to see if the fire gave him a burn. Aqua notices and frowns. “I should have given you a face mask. My apologies, Vanitas.”

“It’s fine.” He drops the gloves on the corner of her table and crosses his arms again. “Is that it?”

She studies him, lips pressing together. “Well, for the moment, but I need to do the other two points shortly. If you could assist with that, it’d spare me some frustration.”

_Ugh._ He doesn’t want to sit around with Aqua in awkward silence, but it’s not like he has anything better to do. He could make something up – But, she could use the assistance and helping Terra and Ventus didn’t kill him. If he helps Aqua, he’s probably free from doing favors for a year. With a quick dip of his chin, he leans against a small clear bit of wall instead of leaving.

“Thank you,” she says again. She turns back to the glass and metal, tweaking some delicate part with a pair of very thin pliers. The room’s small enough that Vanitas can watch without hovering directly over her. Whatever she’s making is star-shaped. He can’t help the sigh that slips out.

Aqua looks up at him. “Yes, Vanitas?”

“You’re making more wayfinders, really?” Vanitas doesn’t feel bad about his tone. How much more stupid sentimentalism can they wrap up in a few stars? 

But Aqua doesn’t get angry. She smiles slightly. “Does it look like our wayfinders? I guess I’m not doing as well as I thought.”

“What?”

“I’m not making another wayfinder. The shape is similar, but it’s not supposed to be as pointed.” Aqua presses two fingers together to make a point and then bends them into an arch. “Naminé asked for a paopu and I’m trying to round out the edges. The leaves will be difficult too.” She rubs the back of her neck. “I haven’t done as much work with natural shapes and it’s proving difficult.”

That’s so much more than he asked and yet, Vanitas is interested anyway. “Why are you making one for Naminé?”

Aqua waves a hand over her worktable. “I’m making one for each of our new friends. I asked what they’d like and it’s my project for the rest of the year. It was a good reason to get back to metalworking and...well.” She stops, pressing her lips together, but Vanitas already knows. She puts so much weight into those little charms, as if the metal, glass, and a touch of her magic really is what brought her friends back to her side.

She might not be wrong.

Vanitas shifts against the wall. “Couldn’t you have done them in whatever colors they prefer and call it a day?”

“I could have, but I do like trying to figure out new things, new shapes I can make. I want them to be something our friends like. It’s worth the extra effort...and all the mistakes.” Aqua’s smile is wry. “I think I’ve scrapped more pieces this week than I did trying to figure out the first wayfinder.”

“Really?” Perfect Master Aqua is struggling with something so simple?

“Really,” Aqua says with a sigh. She points at a waist-high bin to Vanitas’s right. “That’s everything I’ve scrapped. I had to stop looking at it, but I’ll probably salvage some of the colored glass for another project and can melt some of the metals back down to reshape at some point.”

Vanitas leans over to look into the bin and there’s a pile at the bottom of metal pieces welded into rough shapes. Some are only a piece or two that’s been put together and then cast aside as not right. He reaches down and picks up one of the more complete shapes, but he can see that the shape she was going for - a flower with all its petals open - looks too harsh compared to an actual bloom. Vanitas rubs his thumb against the rough edges and then looks at Aqua.

She’s back to work, carefully bending the metal into a smooth curve bit by bit. Her gaze is intense, fixated on this action that she’s determined to do perfectly, but a smile hovers around the corners of her mouth. She’s made so many mistakes, tossed so many things aside that aren’t right, and she’s still smiling. Is it really so enjoyable that endless failure doesn’t put a dent in her happiness?

“Oh, Vanitas, that reminds me.” Aqua doesn’t look up as she speaks. “Do you have an idea of what you’d like? I’ve been switching between them whenever I get too frustrated with one, so I can add yours to the list.”

Vanitas stares at her. “...Mine?”

“Yes, yours. I didn’t want to assume what you’d want.” Aqua sets her pliers down and picks up the torch again. “Let me know when you decide.” _‘I want them to be something our friends like.’_

They don’t like each other or so Vanitas thought. If she’s willing to make him something, willing to put in time and effort to make him something he _likes_ , maybe he was mistaken. Vanitas drops the incomplete flower back into the bin and tugs on the gloves again. “Sure, Aqua,” he says, quieter than before. He holds her work carefully in place, suddenly as determined as she is to see this one come to completion.

* * *

Terra draws a line through bread-making with a flourish. He smiles at Aqua and Ventus. “It seems like he likes anything in the kitchen.”

“He didn’t dislike working with me, though he was a bit quiet.” Aqua taps a finger to her chin.

“He’s always quiet...unless you piss him off.” Ven grins at them and tries to take the list from Terra.

Terra holds it up over his head. “Stop picking fights. Has Vanitas done any of this on his own?”

Ven shrugs. “He already knew stuff about cooking when he helped me. I think he does it by himself, but at weird hours where we won’t see him. Are you doing wood carving next? I want to do that too! I won’t even try to stab Vanitas.”

“I would _hope not._ ” Terra drops a hand to mess up his hair. “The point is to make Vanitas c-.”

“Civilized?” Vanitas’s voice snaps through the air, but it’s nothing compared to the anger scorching in his eyes. He’s standing in the doorway to the classroom, hands fisted at his sides - his shadow seems darker than it should be with how the light falls across him. “Is that what this is?”

They all trade looks, surprised by his appearance, and this only infuriates him further. “Of course it was,” Vanitas spits. “It was some _project_ for you. You have to fix me just like Sora did! You tell me it’s fine to just be here, to be _Vanitas_ , but of course that’s not fucking true!” Vanitas turns and bolts away down the hall.

Ven doesn’t hesitate - he bolts after Vanitas. Aqua and Terra aren’t far behind, their steps echoing through the halls. Vanitas and Ventus are but feet ahead of them, just turning the corner.

Like too many other things, Ven and Vanitas are matched in speed. Vanitas is jerked to a stop when Ventus grabs his arm. Ventus quickly lets go, but it’s enough to turn Vanitas from flight to fight. He hisses through his teeth at his other half. “What? Are you mad that I figured it out?”

“No!” Ventus shoves a hand through the spikes of his hair. “Vanitas, we weren’t trying to force you to be like us, or something. We were just trying to help you, you know, be…” He seems to be lacking the word he wants, but Vanitas is quick to fill in the blanks himself.

“Be what, Ventus?” A ‘real person’ like you?” Vanitas scoffs. “You’re never happy with me, none of you. I try to keep to myself or help you with stupid little tasks and it becomes some _thing_ , because of course it is! I need to be ‘fixed’ and you Lights can’t leave well enough alone. Well guess what? I’m never going to be _one of you!”_ He punctuates the last word with the crack of his fist meeting the wall.

Ringing silence hangs between them for a long minute. Vanitas doesn’t look at Ventus, ignores how embarrassment twists and colors the anger that chokes him. He should have known it was some ploy, some trick to shape him into what they want. All their promises that they were different, that he could just live and do what he wants, were lies.

“Vanitas, I’m sorry.” Terra’s voice is almost unbearably earnest. Vanitas refuses to look at him, too easily recalling Ventus’s memories of the expression that goes with Terra’s tone. It doesn’t stop Terra from talking. “I thought, maybe, you never had the chance to try other things. We all have hobbies and things we enjoy doing, and I thought we should share them. But I should have asked you.”

He can feel the pulse of Ventus’s tangled emotions, no easier to read than Vanitas’s under the anger. Vanitas shoves them all back, not interested in someone else’s guilt or longing. “I thought I could do whatever I want, including _nothing._ ”

“You can,” Aqua says, her voice more carefully controlled than Terra’s. “But if you don’t know your options, how can you know what else you’d enjoy? It felt natural to introduce you to the things we do. We didn’t _entirely_ mean to sneak around.”

“Another way to save me,” Vanitas spits again. “You want to feel like heroes, so you-.”

“No!” Ventus interrupts, jabbing a finger at him. “We’re your friends! We want you to be happy and have things you like, so we’re trying to share. It’s not because you’re broken - it’s because we want you to have a good life now!”

Vanitas scowls at him, but he has no immediate argument for that. He could argue that they’re not friends, but he doesn’t have as much proof as he used to. They mostly leave him alone, only bothering him to sleep and eat. But even that is on his own schedule, so long as they know he’s doing it. They invite him to do things and it’s...weird. They’re all weird.

Terra takes a step closer and holds out the list they were looking at. “We should have asked you, Vanitas. I’m sorry for that. We’re not perfect and we make mistakes still, even when trying to help.”

“I’m sorry too.” Aqua bows her head slightly.

“Yeah, sorry, Vanitas.” Ventus steps closer, eyes bright with emotion. Vanitas can feel the honesty of his sentiment, and the determination under it to still make things better for Vanitas.

Vanitas sighs loudly, expelling much of his frustration. He reaches out and snatches the list from Terra’s hand. It’s everything they’ve asked his help with for the past week and a half and he rolls his eyes. “This is stupid. We’re doing something else.”

“We’re?” Ventus echoes, leaning on his shoulder.

“Yes, _we’re._ ” Vanitas elbows him off and pulls a pen from his pocket. He scans the list again and then writes his own very clearly at the bottom: _ice cream making._ “There. You can all be uncivilized creatures with me.”

The three of them lean in to read it and Aqua laughs first. “Ice cream making? How much have you been talking to everyone in Twilight Town, Vanitas?”

He shrugs as Terra takes the list back. “You’ll eat it, won’t you?”

Terra shrugs. “I’ve heard you can crank it by hand, but it can take a while.”

“I bet it goes faster if you go faster!” Ventus grins at Terra and bumps his elbow with Vanitas’s. “We can invite Roxas, Xion, Lea, and Isa too.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of other people?” Vanitas makes a face at him, arms crossing loosely over his chest. “Whatever. You’re the one who will look like an idiot when you fail in front of all of them.”

“Maybe you’ll fail!”

Aqua interrupts them before the argument grows. “When should we go?”

Vanitas shrugs. “Guess we can make a plan.” He starts walking back the way they came; he left his gummiphone in his room. Ventus, Terra, and Aqua follow, poking fun at Terra for disliking sweet things. It’s overly friendly, obnoxious, and so _dependent._

Or so he would have said before. Now, Vanitas can see, just a bit, what’s nice about someone thinking about you. If they want to share something with you, they’re thinking of you. Vanitas won’t tell any of them that he appreciates it - this whole thing was ridiculous.

But he won’t say no if they ask him for help again.


End file.
